Monsters In The Trees, Cold Steel In Her Heart
How dare he... how dare he turn her into a victim? A scared girl who's life he would take, conclude for his own satisfaction. The sick bastard is going to kill her anyway, so why make it easy for him.
She was of no consequence, of no more value in his eyes than the putrid dead animals that littered the forest floor. She was his, his prey, an animal to be hunted, played with, to satisfy his diseased mind, entertainment for his warped sense of pleasure, but only until the psycho becomes bored with his toy.
Then, and only then would he put her out of her misery by slitting her throat with no more emotion than he showed as he gutted the terrified buck rabbit that he ate for breakfast a few hours ago.
The girl stopped screaming, she looked around her and saw her surroundings as if for the first time, she saw the beauty of the forest no more, what she saw, was a place of sanctuary.
Her senses were now so heightened; she could hear a pin drop. The woods grew quiet. The girl was possessed by a strange calmness. Her eyes dilated like targets on a rifle range as she is drawn towards a thick pile of dank, moist, musky leaves at the base of an old oak tree, just a few feet from where she knelt. She began to crawl, moving slowly at first, then faster and faster, furiously she scrambled on all fours until she reached the welcoming shadow of the old tree where she felt safe and protected.
With bare hands, she began to dig, and the damp musty smell of things long dead crept into her nostrils and her lungs, still she dug into years of rotting leaves caked with mud, through old branches immersed in heavy growth of fungi. Her hands, sore cold and raw, came into contact with a piece of wood that had been cut by someone with a sharp blade.
She grabbed hold of the sturdy stick, wrenching it from the tangled bundle at the base of the tree; she held it in her right hand, grasping the object within her palm. She ran her left hand along the length of the wood; she tested the point of the would be weapon against her thumb, and with a resigned look in the large dark eyes, she held her prize close to her face.
This is my conclusion to Monsters in the Trees, Steel in her Heart Part ll
Read to find out if Jenny became part of the forest, or if the resourceful young girl made her way back home.
Reassured by the roughness of the wood against her skin, she remained kneeling amongst the leaves on the damp earth, caressing the sharp point of the wood against her finger, she whispered, "perfect" the smile that rippled across her face never reached the cold determined eyes.
The girl gathered dried branches, grasses and shrubs, she ran her mud- stained fingers over her face, dried leaves, dirt and twigs, she weaved into her brown shoulder length hair.
The forest grew still, not a bird sang, nature held her breath, until the thunder of a single leaf landing broke the pregnant silence. She buried herself in the shade of the old tree, cocooned and perfectly camouflaged, she waited.
If you enjoyed this short story please check out the original and first part of the story by Frank Atanacio at http://frankatanacio.hubpages.com/hub/Screaming-into-the-Darkness-of-her-Despair and
Enjoy also more alternative endings from other hubbers available from Frank's hub.
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